


Kiss the Genius

by wanderingoverthewords



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 19:49:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15322989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingoverthewords/pseuds/wanderingoverthewords
Summary: Edward is cooking Jonathan's favourite dish tonight. He is rewarded for his efforts.





	Kiss the Genius

**Author's Note:**

> Characters: Edward Nygma, Jonathan Crane; mentions of Oswald Cobblepot, Batman and Jervis Tetch.
> 
> Pairing: Jonathan Crane/Edward Nygma.
> 
> Warnings: Talk of NSFW stuff.
> 
> Note: My babe (kxngofgotham over on tumblr) drew my Edward in the ol’ Kiss the Genius apron from the story ‘Poker Face’, so of course I had to do something with that concept. Don’t get too excited, though, it’s a very short drabble.
> 
> (Link to said art: https://kxngofgotham.tumblr.com/post/175968810521/theres-a-wonderful-twitter-bot-of-only-riddler )
> 
> All material belongs to DC Comics (although, my interpretations of the characters are used).

The sizzling that had overtaken all other noise in the kitchen was satisfying to say the least. Edward Nygma took pride in everything he did and cooking was certainly included in that.

He was sure the other Rogues were convinced he had people to cook for him, but one might find he actually quite enjoyed making meals himself. It was an art, it was a science, it was laced with questions and patterns and _thinking,_ should one wish to put much thought into it. Most people in this darned city liked to just microwave their meals, but, oh, no, not Edward Nygma. He made it all from scratch and revelled in the act as he did so.

It made it all the more worthwhile, he thought, that he was cooking for someone else too. Someone to marvel at his talents and his skills, someone to tell him what a good job he’d done, someone to amaze, someone who would have their taste buds _excited_ and pleasured by the Riddler’s kitchen brilliance.

And, if he played his cards right, _he_ would later be pleasured, considering the person he was cooking for was his lover, and the very thought made _him excited._

Edward let a wicked smirk tug at his lips as he gently pressed down on the sizzling steak with his spatula, listening to the increased hiss it gave as it was pushed against the skillet, and he gave a satisfied hum as he took the pressure off of the slab of meat.

It was a little-known fact that steak was Jonathan Crane’s favourite food - t-bone, cooked medium well, served with some barbecue sauce that Edward was going to make from scratch - and Edward happily took advantage of that fact whenever he wanted to butter Jonathan up. Serve it with some crispy roast potatoes and a bit of salad and Jonathan was putty in his hands.

He usually used this tactic whenever he wanted to ask favours he knew Jonathan would hate - like accompanying him to one of Oswald’s parties or meetings, or helping him leave his next riddle for Batman - but sometimes, he liked to treat himself. Sometimes, a guy just wanted to be ploughed into a mattress by his boyfriend.

Nothing wrong with that, was there? After all, the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach - why couldn’t the same be said for a man’s dick?

Edward gave the steak one last smile before he turned to the side and bent at the middle to look through his oven’s window, the glass dotted with condensation and a light layer of steam. The potatoes looked like they were coming along nicely and that made him smile again.

As he straightened up, he put his hands to his hips and poked the end of his tongue out of his mouth as he pondered lightly on what to do next.

 _Best get started on the sauce,_ he decided after a good five seconds of thought, turning back to the counter to do just that, before he heard a door open and close and turned to look at that instead.

There was a little window in the far right wall of his kitchen that gave a view of the living room; it was through this that Edward peeked, his gaze immediately going to the door in the corner of the aforementioned room, the very door that Jonathan had just walked through. He looked as neutral as he always did, so that was probably a good sign.

If he’d gotten stressed about his work again, there would’ve been a chance that Edward’s little plan wouldn’t have worked, for Jonathan would’ve wanted to sit in silence to let himself blow off steam.

Edward watched as Jonathan walked casually into the kitchen, giving Edward a brief nod of acknowledgement before going to the fridge in the corner by the window.

He opened one of the doors, reached inside and retrieved a bottle of water, which he immediately uncapped and brought to his lips, tipping his head back as he downed half the bottle.

Well. Nice to know Jonathan had remembered that, yes, he did indeed need to drink water to survive. Usually, Edward would’ve needed to go down and hand him a drink himself.

Edward’s lips slowly curled into a wide smile, watching Jonathan’s Adam’s apple bob as he gulped down the ice cold water.

Jonathan had remembered to take care of himself, which meant he wasn’t so deep into his research this time, which meant he was in a good mood. A good, relaxed, unstressed mood, which would surely be made even better when he got a load of what his beloved was making him - and that meant Nygma was _getting some tonight._

Praise the deities that watched over Gotham! They were finally being nice to him! Oh, if they kept this up, he might’ve actually had to start believing in them!

_“Ahem.”_

Jonathan faltered, righting his head as he finished his drink, far too curious about what had made Edward give such a pointed noise. He held the bottle by its neck with two fingers and a thumb as he turned his head to look, his expression still neutral.

Edward was bent ever-so-slightly at the waist, his head tilted back a bit with his eyes closed and his lips pursed. When he sensed that Jonathan had stopped his drinking and had looked at him, he pointedly tapped a gloved finger to his lips three times.

When there came no feeling of lips on his, Edward theorised Jonathan didn’t understand why this command was being made and so used his other index finger to tap at his apron instead, again three times.

Jonathan looked at it.

There was writing on the front of the green apron, orange cursive that looked as though it could’ve been handwritten by Edward himself: _Kiss the Genius._

It was a very simple command, Edward had thought, a very simple task - and yet there was no pair of chapped, scarred lips on his own. In confusion, he popped open an eye to find out what on earth Jonathan was doing instead of kissing him.

The answer was: he was staring at him, eyes half-lidded, his neutral look having descended the scale just slightly and ended up as deadpanned.

Had to give him some credit, though; Edward had had half the mind to assume Jonathan had walked off while he’d had his eyes closed. At least Jonathan had had the decency to stay.

Edward raised an eyebrow, a question delivered through his expression, and Jonathan sighed softly through his nose.

“Really?” He asked. “We’re doin’ this?”

Alright, admittedly this was much more cliché, domestic and disgustingly sweeter than their usual behaviour, but what was wrong with that? Whoever said super-villains couldn’t be cute sometimes, huh? What, were _heroes_ only allowed to be in love these days?

Edward’s own eyes narrowed, his lips still pursed, now making his usual look of irritation. _“Well,_ we _would_ \- if you weren’t so _boring.”_

He and Jonathan stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, then Edward huffed and turned back to the skillet that held upon it the prime piece of meat that was supposed to put Jonathan in the mood for late night entertainment. He hadn’t even noticed it sizzling away there.

Wasted effort, Edward would say. Wasted effort!

Edward extended an arm out to the side and waved Jonathan away, shutting his eyes again as he ranted, purposefully overdramatic, “Fine, then. Go. Return to your _stuffy,_ little basement with your _silly,_ little mouse and your _silly,_ little textbooks and your _silly,_ little toxin. Leave me to _slave_ over dinner, per the norm.” Edward gave another huff. “I’m only making your favourite dish, but whatever, I suppose. Shame on _me_ for wanting to do something nice for my so-called _beloved. Shame on me._ I should’ve known that this sort of thing wouldn’t -”

He stopped himself there, for a hand was cupping the left side of his head, he was being tugged a little to the right and a pair of lips were pressing themselves to the skin of his cheek firmly.

Edward’s eyes flew open, wide and betraying his surprise, and the lips came away from his cheek after a few seconds of pressing into his flesh. When he turned his head to speak again, Jonathan pressed a kiss to his forehead, then pecked his lips as well.

As he pulled back, Jonathan spoke plainly to Edward, but his gaze was locked upon the steak he had finally noticed sitting in the skillet; this drew a smug smirk from Edward that he couldn’t stop before it was present on his face.

“Stop bein’ dramatic,” Jonathan said. His gaze raised itself to Edward’s face as he prodded his chest with one finger. “An’ don’t call my mouse, my textbooks or my toxin silly.”

He leaned forward to kiss Edward on the lips again and Edward took notice of how Jonathan’s lips were wetter than before; the sight of the steak had made his mouth begin to water.

Edward felt pride swelling in his gut. _Gotcha…_

The kiss was brief and Jonathan was soon pulling back again, turning on his heel to walk out of the kitchen and back to his ‘stuffy, little basement’, his bottle of water still in hand.

Edward watched him go, then turned his gaze to the wall opposite him and smiled dreamily to himself, cupping the cheek that Jonathan had kissed and leaning his head into his own fingers as he hummed in delight. As his cheeks were dusted with a bright red blush, one might’ve just seen little cartoon hearts swarming his head, if they were insane enough to hallucinate as such (which Edward was not; that was more of a Tetch thing).

He knew his little tactic would work; Jonathan wouldn’t have humoured him like that if he’d been in a bad mood and he definitely wouldn’t have kissed him that many times if there was the slightest chance that the mere sight of such a delicious steak hadn’t buttered him up.

Edward had called his toxin ‘silly’, after all - Jonathan wasn’t usually so forgiving regarding insults against his toxin, not even playful ones. The same went for the little rodent he kept in a cage on his desk, one of the few creatures on this earth that had obtained Jonathan Crane’s love and protection.

Jonathan was in _such a good mood._

Edward bit down on his lip with his incisor teeth as excitement bubbled in his gut, barely able to stop the grin breaking out on his face. He directed this delight down at the slab of cooked meat that was his partner in crime in this endeavour and squeaked out a thrilled mutter of, “I’m not going to be able to _walk tomorrow…!”_

Innards of a mattress, here he came.

(Haha.)


End file.
